Not a phrase you will hear me uttering, nor one to which I would usually respond. Although baptised as a Christian in my childhood, I do not follow its teachings or beliefs nor that of any other formal religion. Instead, I adhere to a more spiritual way of thinking attaching more importance to a rationalist outlook, . Therefore, I attach great importance to the power of nature and, as such so will visit Shinto shrines in Japan where the spirits inhabit trees and natural phenomenon, for inspiration. In the UK I am not averse to wandering into a local church in the countryside for a few moments of quiet reflection, especially if it has an interesting historical or cultural background, and from where we can use our understanding of the past to inform our present thinking.

The nearest, pictured above, which is just a few minutes’ walk away from my home in Little Bowden, is that of St. Nicholas, where a church has stood on the site from at least the middle of the twelfth century. Although it has obviously undergone substantial restoration and reconstruction since, the earliest surviving part of the original building is thought to date from about 1300, with other parts from the late 18^th and 19^th centuries so occasionally I step back into time.

Of more recent historical interest and almost within living memory of a very few surviving veterans is a memorial to the Reverend Vivian Redlich, the son of Canon Redlich, the rector of Little Bowden where Vivian was brought up. And, to my surprise and interest, an explanation as to his fate is accompanied by some Japanese writing and a letter from the Bishop of Yokohama in Japan.

After undergoing theological training in England himself, Vivian served with the brotherhood of St. Andrew in Australia before volunteering for missionary work in nearby Papua New Guinea where he soon found himself involved in the war with Japan, writing what would be his final letter to his father on 27 July 1942, which is also displayed on the wall of the church.

” Somewhere in the Papuan Bush, July 27th 1942. My dear Dad, The war has busted up here. I got back from Doguara and ran right into it, and am now somewhere in my parish hoping to carry on, tho’ my people are horribly scared. No news of May, and I am cut off from contacting her. My staff O.K. so far, but in another spot.  I’m trying to stick whatever happens. If I don’t come out of it just rest content that I have tried to do my job faithfully.  Last chance of getting word out, so forgive brevity. God Bless you all.  Vivian”

It was originally believed that Redlich was taken from his Mission House by the Japanese army, and beheaded on a nearby beach, thus prompting the letter of profuse apology from the Bishop of Yokohama to the people of Leicestershire. However 70 years later, it emerged that this was not the case. There is a further sad twist to this story, as Vivian had met and fallen in love with May Hayman, an Australian mission nurse who had cared for him during illness. Only recently engaged, they were working at different mission stations about 40km apart in the jungle, and Nurse Hayman had been captured by the Japanese at the time of the invasion. It is now believed that Vivian Redlich was on his way to rescue her when he was attacked with spears and killed by local tribesmen. Nurse Hayman managed to escape into the jungle, with another nurse but they were both re-captured and executed by the Japanese army.

So, despite the Japanese army being exonerated for the death of Vivian Redlich this tale remains shrouded in tragedy, but makes for an interesting story when I take my Japanese visitors to the church.

And so as not to become too morbid, I usually try to cheer my friends up with a traditional British lunch or dinner in the neighbouring thatched Cherry Tree pub.

So, if I don’t see you in church, I might very well see you in the pub!